


Till The Sun's Seen Through My Eyes

by aureate



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 05:09:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15017321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aureate/pseuds/aureate
Summary: Seungcheol asked Wonwoo to make pancakes and waffles, and Jihoon remembers the flowers he hold four years ago.





	Till The Sun's Seen Through My Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> This is a part of this [social media au](https://twitter.com/cheolhuns/status/1002193226936156160). Please read first.
> 
> Not beta-ed. Sorry if it's messy! Title is taken from Rex Orange County - Sunflower.

Jihoon’s grip on his phone tightens, the knock on his room is persistent but not too loud. He knows who it is behind the door, but the question is—does he want to open it? It isn’t a matter of life or death, but Jihoon knows whatever he is about to do is going to bring a big change to his life. Or not.

He throws his phone on to his bed, takes a glance around his shared room with Jun to make sure there is nothing embarrassing the older could see. Jun’s bed is messy, but so is his, and that’s a normal thing to have in the boys’ dorm rooms, right? 

He opens the door and meets the pair of eyes he always remembers at the back of his head. He isn’t supposed to be surprised, hell, he has expected the older to be the one behind the door, but he still takes one step back because suddenly everything feels too _real_.

“Hi, Jihoon,” Seungcheol smiles warmly and Jihoon is confused whether he should melt into the warmth or cry. His cheeks heat up instead. The older boy conjures a white plastic bag with his right hand and a bouquet of flowers—a familiar bouquet of flowers—with the other hand and offers them to Jihoon like it’s the most natural thing to do. “It’s for you,” he gestures to the flowers. 

Jihoon takes them—he couldn’t not take the flowers, right?—and steps back, unconsciously inviting Seungcheol into the room. His brain screams, telling him that it might not be a good idea but his heart encourages him, _Don’t listen to that moron_ , it says, referring to his brain. He might regret this, but he shuts his brain up for a while. It’s probably the best.

“Thanks, hyung,” he says. “You don’t have to buy it for me.”

Seungcheol grins, and Jihoon wonders what kind of magic does the older possess to have him seems composed all the time despite the unspoken tension between them. He is glad, though, because it would be very awkward if he doesn’t have that magic.

“Figured out it would be nice for visiting a sick person,” he answers easily. “How are you feeling?”

_Confused_ , but Jihoon doesn’t say that out loud. He puts the food and the flower on his messy study desk—he swears he would tidy up someday—and chooses sit to on his bed. Seungcheol looks unsure for a split second, but he pulls Jihoon’s chair closer towards the bed and sits on it. The younger is only glad he doesn’t have dirty laundry lousily hanging on the chair today. 

“Better,” he says quietly, eyeing Seungcheol who somehow has set his eyes on the cork board Jihoon has above his study desk. 

The older leans closer to the board, investigating various pictures Jihoon keeps there. He usually doesn’t take pictures but Soonyoung is someone who would insist to keep every moment photographed, so there are various pictures of them in different moments pinned on the board. He didn’t even bother to print them if it weren’t for his best friends.

Seungcheol makes movements to take off a few pictures from the board and—oh boy, Jihoon has just remembered about the picture he has hidden behind maybe three pictures of him, Wonwoo and Soonyoung during the snowball war they did during their last year of high school. Too late though, Seungcheol already has that picture in his hand, with a fond smile plastered on his face.

Jihoon’s heart makes a little trip at that.

“I still have it, too,” Seungcheol says, suddenly digging at his back pocket to take out something from it. He hands it over to Jihoon, but the younger already knows what he is about to see.

It is the polaroid they took at Seungcheol’s graduation—a counterpart of what Jihoon has pinned on his board—in this one, the older posed a victory with one hand while the other hand is wrapped around the younger’s shoulder. They had big smiles, that day. It was taken right before the _accident_. Jihoon would never forget.

“Do you recognize the flowers?” he asks, and Jihoon nods a little too quickly.

He would recognize the same flowers he bought Seungcheol for his graduation day in a heart beat. He would never forget, because the reason he chose sunflower was how he felt a bit relatable to the flower that keeps following the sun. It reminded him of how his eyes would always follow the older boy somehow. 

“Jihoon,” Seungcheol starts, and Jihoon suddenly feels small. “Look at me? Please?”

He looks up and meets the older’s doe eyes. They look tired, he notes, making him look a lot older than what he remembers of. It’s probably what university doing to you. Seungcheol blinks, and Jihoon is suddenly hyperaware of how close they are, being able to see how the older’s eyelashes seem to be longer than what he had years ago. They’re so pretty, and he wonders if could kiss— _touch_ them.

“Yeah?”

Seungcheol must have realized Jihoon’s nervousness because he leans out a bit, giving themselves a space to breathe and the younger is torn between feeling glad or disappointed. The older gives him a small, reassuring smile that doesn’t do anything to the thumping in Jihoon’s chest except to make it ring louder in his ears.

“I want to apologize,” he says it loud and clear, without hesitation, “I want to explain everything—what happened in the past. It doesn’t have to be now, if you’re not ready. It’s okay if you’re still angry after hearing it too, but I still want to let you know.”

Jihoon nods, he knows he would have to face this eventually. Sooner or later he has to face the truth, so why prolong the misery?

“It’s okay, hyung. I’m ready,” he says.

Seungcheol smiles, and Jihoon realizes how the older is trying hard hiding his nervousness. The small twitch at the corner of his lips is hard to miss.

“I’m glad you come here, because it would be awkward if I have to meet you at the library or the cafe and talk about this,” he assures him. He feels better to know that he’s not the only one that needs assuring.

The older nods. “Do you still remember the day I told you I like boys?” He asks.

“I do.” 

“I was already developed a big crush on you by then. But I thought you weren’t interested, so I chickened out and tried dating other people to forget you,” he says. “Do you still remember the day I told you I got tired of dating and wanted to focus on studying instead? 

“Yeah, I still do.”

“It was because I realized my time is getting shorter in Busan, and if I keep dating people I would spend less and less time with you, and I didn’t want to regret that.” Seungcheol’s smile looks kind of sad, but Jihoon doesn’t have the strength to say anything. “Do you still remember how I kissed you at my graduation?”

Jihoon closes his eyes and a flash of memories comes back to him. The warmth of Seungcheol’s chapped lips, the smell of flowers, the sound of students chattering in a distance away from them. He opens them, staring straight into Seungcheol’s eyes and nods. “I do, hyung.”

“I was wondering if it was a mistake, that you weren’t interested in me and I shouldn’t ruin our friendship. I wanted to be a good hyung for you so bad, Jihoon. I was afraid if I take a step forward it would ruin everything and you would never look up to me again,” he finally confesses. 

“Hyung—“

Seungcheol shakes his head, shushing him. “Let me finish,” he says with a smile. “Jihoon, I know I was an asshole. You didn’t deserve to be cut like that, as a friend first and foremost. I was selfish, I only thought of myself and how to protect my own heart from being broken. And when I figured I wanted to apologize when I arrived at Daegu, I lost my phone. I took that as a sign that maybe universe doesn’t want me to reach back to you.”

Jihoon blinks, trying to process everything. 

“Look, I know I’m still an asshole regardless of what my excuses are. I even keep disappointing you with how recent things are. My friends made me realize how selfish I was, and I want to apologize for everything I’ve done that hurt you,” he takes a deep breath, “And I want to let you know, that I’m willing to try to be a better person for you.”

“Hyung.”

“Yeah?" 

“Can I punch you?” Jihoon tries asking in the most casual way, despite the hammering in his chest.

Seungcheol looks taken aback, like out of the responses he would get he never expects Jihoon to punch him. But it’s only brief until he schools back his expression and nods firmly, “Of course, Jihoon. I perhaps deserve even worse.” He readies himself, leaning a bit forward to give the younger better access to his face, and closes his eyes. “You can do it.”

Jihoon hums, making sure the older boy is squeezing his eyes properly before he leans forward and presses a small peck on his lips. His rapid heartbeat be damned. Seungcheol opens his eyes, surprised, but Jihoon only stares at him shyly with pink hues starting to decorate his cheeks and the tips of his ears. 

“You’re forgiven,” he says quickly, averting his eyes down, suddenly finding his bed sheets more interesting than the older’s face. “I was stupid too, so it is a win-win situation, I think.”

“Shit, Jihoon, _I love you_.” 

Jihoon’s eyes flicks up as fast as the hand Seungcheol brings up to cover his mouth, eyes showing shocks. “Is that—Did it slip out?” Seungcheol nods apologetically. Jihoon sighs. “No,” he says.

“What?”

“I said no, I won’t accept it unless you mean it.” 

Seungcheol’s eyes turn into the prettiest crescent Jihoon has ever seen, his smile blinding. He must have said a stupid thing because the older looks at him like he’s being ridiculous. He lets Seungcheol intertwines their fingers together, trying not to think of how hot his palms feel right now. 

“I love you,” he gets a peck on his forehead, “I love you,” and another on the tip of his nose, “I love you,” and an extra at the corner of his lips. Seungcheol is teasing, and as much as Jihoon wants the older to do more, he tries hard to keep up his composure like his puts his lifeline on a bet. “Say it back?” The older pleas, and Jihoon couldn’t help but cracks a smile.

“Love you too, hyung,” he says in his smallest voice, hoping at least the embarrassment wouldn’t be too much to drown him, but then Seungcheol laughs right at the crook of his neck and Jihoon thinks maybe drowning is a better option at this point. 

Suddenly there’s a hand at the back of his head that guides him and Jihoon wants to panic, really, but then their lips meet and there’s no time for panicking again. The kiss is a lot better than the one they had at Seungcheol’s graduation—he’s not crying, for starter—and Jihoon wonders if they this worth all the drama they had gone through. It must be. 

The heat of Seungcheol’s lips on his neck is almost unbearable, but the feeling of the older’s fingers making contact with his skin beneath his t-shirt is even more torturing. He doesn’t even remember how it happened, all he knows is that the older is good at this and his heart might break a little at the thought of him doing this with other people. But Jihoon is a good game player too, he has some tricks up his sleeves even though he’s nowhere as good as Seungcheol. He tugs the older’s head up and kisses him deeply. He could feel him humming into the kiss, encouraging him to do more, to explore more, and—

That’s when the door suddenly opens and the familiar face of his roommate decides to pop in. 

“Aaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!” Jun screams and closes the door as quick as he barges in earlier.

Jihoon could feel all the blood rushing to his head and maybe this is how he is going to die—from embarrassment. Seungcheol chuckles and leans back, leaving the small, warm space they shared before, and Jihoon wants to whine at the loss of contact but he holds everything in. 

“His class must have finished early,” he offers, just to break the thick air between them.

Seungcheol nods, “Time for you to eat, then.”

He stands up and walks to the door to tell Jun that it is okay to come in while Jihoon gets his breakfast. The waffles and the pancakes don’t look that bad, Wonwoo must have gone through a decent training to be able to make these. He makes a note to thank him later.

**Author's Note:**

> Continue reading on [twitter](https://twitter.com/cheolhuns/status/1010368695925817344).


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